Chalet Girls

by Lorraine Wilson

  ‘That would be great, if you don‘t mind, thanks. You‘re going to be okay, aren‘t you, Soph? You and Luc are so great together.’

  I avoid her direct gaze and turn away to stack plates, wishing I could reassure her.

  Wishing I could reassure myself.

  Holly would smack me if she thought I‘d been entertaining ‚should I give up Luc so he can have the family he‘s always dreamed of?‘ thoughts. I‘d probably smack me too if I were her.

  Truth is, even if I should give him up, I don‘t think I can. I‘m not cut out to be a martyr. The idea that Luc might be having second thoughts about marrying me and willingly giving up his chance for a family fills me with gut-wrenching terror. Who knows what he‘s thinking? He‘s keeping all his emotions locked up at the moment. We both are.

  I dread what might happen if we both decide to turn the keys and let the truths spill out.

  It‘s so much safer to carry on as we are. I‘ll find a way to sort things out. I have to, both to protect the people I love and to keep my own heart from breaking.

  In my mind I play the ending of our rom com film – the version of my love story with Luc that ends after a Valentine‘s Day treasure hunt and proposal. In that version Thomas would have the hideously painful skiing accident Holly suggested and I‘d magically become pregnant, despite all the doctors telling me it‘s impossible.

  If only I were in that film or a heroine in my own romance novel. Then someone could write me out of this mess and hit the delete key on this sadness so heavy I can‘t bear to carry it any more.

  But this is real life. This is what happens after the credits stop rolling or the last page of the romance novel has been read. There‘s no script and no soft-focus lens.

  It‘s all down to me.

  I just wish I felt up to the job of being the author and producer of my own life.

  ‘Don‘t worry. It‘ll all work out.’ I keep my eyes averted so Holly can‘t use her best-friend telepathy skills to read my mind.

  It‘ll either work out or it‘ll all go hideously wrong.

  One of the two.

  Chapter 14

  From: jake@yahoo.com

  To: emily@hotmail.com

  Subject: Ring me!

  Hi Emily,

  Have you accidentally switched the ringer on your phone off again? I’ve been trying to get hold of you. Something happened during filming. There’s been an accident. Don’t worry, I’m okay, but I need to talk to you and see if you can get hold of Lucy.

  Speak ASAP.

  Jake

  LUCY

  I‘m in Bar des Amis having coffee with Sophie, Holly, Tash and Rebecca when Emily rushes in, her face white as snow.

  ‘What‘s up, Emily?’ Sophie pulls out a spare chair.

  ‘Lucy, have you heard?’ Emily sits down, breathing hard and turns to stare at me, her eyes wide.

  For a second my mind goes blank, but there‘s a lurching sensation in my stomach that suggests my body is quicker on the uptake.

  ‘Heard what?’ My pulse quickens.

  Emily takes my hand and the lurching upgrades to a full-on plummeting-to-the-bottom-of-a-lift-shaft experience.

  ‘Jake was on Seb‘s team today for the shoot.’ She pauses. ‘I … er … don‘t know how to tell you this. I know you‘re seeing Seb. He told Jake he wanted you to know if anything happened to him.’

  ‘What’s happened?’ I stiffen, and it feels like ice is trickling down my spine.

  ‘There was an avalanche.’ She squeezes my hand.

  ‘An avalanche?’ I repeat, my brain still struggling to compute what my body already fears. ‘Is he okay?’

  My mouth is dry. I can‘t lose Seb; I’ve only just found him.

  ‘We‘re not sure yet. His ABS Avalanche airbag meant the helicopter found him fairly quickly. He‘s been taken to hospital, but he‘s still unconscious.’

  I stand up from my chair, as though my action, any action, can help in any way. Why on earth did I ever care that Seb wasn‘t what I expected? That he has a history and baggage? I don‘t give a flying snowball that my parents won‘t approve of him. I only want Seb. I need him and I can‘t bear to lose him.

  ‘Do you want to go to the hospital, Lucy? I can take you, if you like?’ Sophie stands up and gently takes my other hand.

  I blink hard. ‘Yes please.’

  I‘m deaf to what the others are saying as Sophie gets her bag and keys, the words have receded to background noise. They‘re irrelevant. All I can think about is a whiteout, being buried alive beneath several tonnes of snow. How must that feel? My chest is tight and my jaw clenched. Have the mountains taken Seb from me when I‘ve only just found him?

  ‘Please God, don‘t let Seb die. Please.’ I whisper a prayer as we start the journey by car down to the hospital on the valley floor. I don‘t know if Sophie hears me pray. If she does she doesn‘t comment on it.

  I knew what Seb did was dangerous, but somehow I fell for the fantasy that he was bullet-proof. He‘s done stupid, crazy things and got away with them for years. You don‘t get awarded a Biggest Guts award at The Reels festival or acquire numerous Freeride World Tour Champion titles for doing the sensible, safe thing.

  I let Sophie do the talking at the hospital reception. I‘m still in a daze, half unbelieving, half feeling as though I want to vomit. That I feel this bad confirms the awful truth. I‘m in love with Seb. The fear of losing him has crystallised this knowledge. It‘s a physical ache, spreading through me, gripping my body in a way I didn‘t know emotions could.

  It‘s an awful truth because it exposes me, makes me vulnerable. I‘m no longer in control and it‘s scaring me shitless.

  ‘I‘ve said you‘re his fiancée so you could get in to see him,’ Sophie whispers in my ear as we‘re ushered into one of the curtained cubicles in the emergency ward.

  ‘Thanks, Sophie, you‘re a star.’ I follow her gratefully, wondering what on earth I would‘ve done without her help today. She underplays her French-language skills but she‘s done far better than I could‘ve managed today. I miss having her in the bunk above me at Chalet Repos since she moved in with Luc. She‘s one of those rare people who are both kinder and lovelier than they will ever believe themselves.

  When all this is over I‘ll find a way to let her know how grateful I am, but for now all I can think of is Seb.

  Please God, let him be okay. Please.

  My urgent prayer is silent but heartfelt. My relationship with God is complicated, but I still believe He‘s there, whatever name we give Him or whatever He communicates through imperfect, human filters.

  When I see Seb lying in bed, eyes open and conscious, I almost crumple under the weight of the surge of relief that hits me. Apart from looking groggy, he seems absolutely fine. I exhale with relief and then take my first proper breath since I heard the news.

  ‘You‘re okay?’ I resist the urge to hug him in case he‘s got broken ribs or something similar.

  ‘Yes, I got off pretty lightly. Just a mild concussion.’ His face is a little grey and less animated than usual, but otherwise he looks alright.

  ‘Really? Thank God. I was so worried.’ I sit in the plastic chair next to the hospital bed and barely register Sophie squeezing my shoulder and muttering something about going off to fetch coffee.

  ‘I‘m okay, Lucy Lu. No need to worry about me.’ Seb‘s attempt at a grin slips into a grimace of pain.

  I blink hard, my hands gripping the edge of the plastic chair. No need to worry? Seriously? If this thing with Seb is going to last, then this will be my future – hospital corridors reeking of disinfectant and anxiety where I‘ll have to sit and wait for news.

  I search Seb‘s face, looking behind the bravado, seeking out the fear I‘m hoping to find. Because if there‘s only recklessness there I don‘t know if I can do this. I think I can see the truth in his eyes, the knowledge that he was damned lucky this time.

  ‘What was it like?’ I whisper. ‘Being in the avalanche?’
>
  ‘At first I thought I could outrun it, this monstrosity breathing down my neck.’ Seb shakes his head and then winces at the pain the motion triggers. ‘I tried to outrun it, going faster and faster, until I was tearing down the slope at breakneck pace. That was when I noticed the cracks all around me. It was like being on top of a rollercoaster.’

  ‘Scary stuff.’ I stare at Seb. The picture he‘s painted in my mind is so vivid I can practically feel the cracks forming around me. It‘s every skier or boarder’s worst nightmare – the day your luck runs out.

  ‘Yes, as you say, scary stuff.’ Seb fixes his dark eyes on me and I know I‘m seeing the truth. ‘Then the entire hillside crumbled away from me in a fraction of a second. It was so quick. You forget how things can change in a split second. It was like the mountain broke up around me and swallowed me whole. It reminded me how small we are, how fragile our lives are.’

  He sighs and my heart lurches as I imagine Seb buried beneath several tonnes of snow. Just thinking about it makes me feel panicky.

  ‘What did you do then?’ I reach out to grip the hand not hooked up to a cannula.

  Seb squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a shuddering sigh. ‘I must‘ve activated my avalanche airbag instinctively. I don‘t even remember doing it. After that, it was the waiting that was hard. I couldn‘t move under the weight of all the snow. Up until then I was acting, responding … waiting I don‘t do so well. It kind of drives me crazy.’

  ‘Yes, I think I can testify to that.’ I smile, but my cheeks flush and feel strangely tight. I hadn‘t realised how tense my body was; all my muscles are rigid and I‘m leaning forwards, on the edge of my chair. ‘How did you cope with the wait?’

  ‘I don‘t remember, I must‘ve lost consciousness. Next thing I know I‘m waking up here.’ He pulls a face.

  ‘You‘re lucky your team found you so quickly. Thank God for your ABS airbag.’ I mean it, my thanks are heartfelt. That Seb escaped with only a few minor injuries seems like nothing short of a miracle to me.

  Out of the corner of my eye I catch a flash of movement and see Gabriella entering the ward. Her face is ashen. She acknowledges me with a nod and then turns to face Seb, hands on hips and a hard edge to her expression.

  ‘The hospital phoned me. Sebastien, you could‘ve been killed.’ She narrows her eyes, glaring at him with a ferocity that reveals her barely contained fury.

  I‘m processing the fury at the same time as absorbing the fact that Gabriella is still down as Seb‘s next of kin. I suppose that makes sense with his daughter in the picture.

  Seb grimaces back at Gabriella. ‘I‘m fine, thanks for asking.’

  I feel as though I shouldn‘t be here, that I‘m intruding on something private.

  ‘I‘d better go.’ I let go of Seb‘s hand.

  ‘No, please don‘t, there‘s really no need for you to go,’ he protests, but I‘ve already pushed back the plastic chair and backed away.

  ‘No, really. I ought to,’ I babble. ‘Sophie gave me a lift and she needs to get back to Bar des Amis. Take care, okay? I‘ll be in touch.’

  I attempt a small smile and then nod quickly at Gabriella without meeting her eye. Then I leave the ward as quickly as I can. Combined with the intensity of Gabriella‘s emotion the next-of-kin issue niggles at me. There‘s any number of reasons why Gabriella might be listed as Seb‘s next of kin. His family are in France. He didn‘t get around to changing it when they split up. He wants Estelle to know first if something happens to him.

  Estelle.

  I think about Estelle’s solemn eyes and wild, dark curls and her request that I look after her daddy when she’s not around.

  And I get why Gabriella is so furious.

  I text Sophie to say I’m ready to leave, then head to the loos, mind reeling and emotions churning. I’m washing my hands when Gabriella stalks in. In the mirror I see her stare at me appraisingly, eyes thoughtful and serious and carefully plucked eyebrows arched. I tense, I don’t want this, whatever she’s about to impart, my head is already too full.

  It doesn’t look like I’m going to get a choice, though.

  ‘Be careful, Lucy. Seb is great and I want to see him settled and happy more than anyone, but you need to know something. He’ll always love the mountains more than he loves anyone else.’ Gabriella shrugs and smiles wryly. ‘I should know.’

  I stare into the mirror. It’s odd, staring at her reflection instead of facing her head on. It’s easier absorbing the intensity of her honesty while I’m one step removed and can focus on the process of washing my hands. I prolong the process by adding more lurid pink liquid soap to my palms, but can’t spin this out forever or she’ll think I’m OCD.

  I take a deep breath and turn around to grab a paper towel from the dispenser.

  ‘Right.’ I dry my hands and find the courage to make eye contact.

  I don’t know what to say. Nothing in my life so far has prepared me for a heart to heart with the mother of my boyfriend’s child.

  Why does everyone keep warning me about Seb?

  The silence stretches between us, broken only by a dripping tap.

  When my phone beeps to alert me to a new text I’m pathetically grateful.

  ‘Sorry, I just need to check this.’ I pull out my phone and glance at the screen, expecting it to be from Sophie, but instead it’s from my brother, Ben.

  Lucy call me. URGENT.

  What the What now? My pulse races as I lean back against the sinks, reassured by the solidity of the hard enamel ridge holding me upright.

  ‘Sorry, Gabriella, I really need to make a call. Family emergency.’

  ‘I understand.’ She smiles weakly, but there’s a resigned grimace that indicates she thinks I’m just trying to escape, that I don’t want to hear what she has to say.

  I hurry out, phone clamped to my ear, adrenalin and stress coursing through my body for the second time today. Each second I hear the phone ring at Ben’s end and it’s not answered the panic builds, twisting my stomach into gnarly knots. Surely there ought to be a limit to the amount of bad news one person can get in one day?

  Finally Ben answers.

  ‘Lucy.’ The tone of his voice makes my stomach clench.

  ‘What’s up, Ben?’

  ‘It’s Dad. He’s had a massive stroke. Tess wouldn’t stop barking until I followed her to the barn, where I found him … and …’ His voice cracks and it’s like I’ve been punched.

  ‘Is … is he going to be okay?’ I lean against the nearest wall, winded and physically weak. I had no idea before today that my usually athletic body could be so easily defeated by emotion. I take care of myself, I eat healthily and do yoga every day as well as skiing in winter and mountain-hiking in summer. But all of that can be wiped out in an instant by a text or a phone call.

  There’s a pause, a pause in which I think my heart might actually have stopped beating and I really might throw up this time.

  ‘He didn’t make it, Lucy,’ Ben’s tone is flat. ‘He died before the air ambulance could get here.’

  ‘Oh, Ben … I …’A bizarre sense of unreality creeps over me and I feel dazed. This can’t be happening. If I close my eyes and then open them again I can wake up and start the day afresh.

  ‘You need to come home – the next flight you can get. Mum wants you back. She needs you, Lucy.’

  ‘Right,’ I repeat blankly. ‘Are you okay, Ben? I mean, obviously not but …’

  I try to imagine the horror of watching someone die, of being helpless to save them.

  Someone. It’s not just anyone, though, is it? It’s Dad. It’s my dad.

  My throat contracts and for a moment I’m sure I can’t breathe.

  ‘Just come home. I want you back too.’ Ben sounds as close to tears as I’ve ever heard him. Our family doesn’t really do emotion. His plea tugs at my heart.

  Somehow I make my legs obey me and I head back to Seb’s ward to say goodbye. I don’t know when I’ll see him next.

/>   ‘He’s asleep,’ Gabriella says quietly. ‘I don’t think we should wake him up.’

  ‘I suppose not.’ I suppress the pang of disappointment. My natural instinct is to turn to him, although maybe that’s selfish, given what he’s just gone through.

  If I were alone with him I would kiss him on the cheek or squeeze his hand, craving the reassurance of some kind of physical contact before I leave to go home.

  ‘Goodbye, Gabriella.’ I try to keep my voice steady, but needn’t worry as she’s preoccupied with Seb.

  ‘Goodbye, Lucy. Don’t worry, he’ll be fine.’ Gabriella says, turning and smiling briefly.

  I head to the hospital main entrance in a haze of unreality, torn between my new life and my old one. There’s no choice to make, though. I have to go home. I’ll send Seb a text explaining. He’s going to be okay, Dad’s … not. Not ever going to be okay again.

  Never.

  I’m never going to see him again. The thought hits me like a punch and I’m reeling again, bumping into lines of plastic chairs bolted to the floor.

  ‘Are you alright, Lucy?’ Sophie walks towards me, eyes wide with concern.

  It’s the compassion that does it. For the first time in years, I burst into tears. Messy, noisy, out-of-control sobs that wrack my body. Sophie puts her arm around me and guides me to a chair.

  ‘What’s wrong? Is it Seb?’ She frowns. ‘I thought he wasn’t badly injured?’

  ‘It’s not him. Seb’s okay, nothing major anyway.’ I sniff noisily and take the tissue Sophie hands me. Bless her, she always seems to have what you need on her. ‘I, I just heard that my dad died.’

  Saying the words aloud feels surreal.

  A blizzard of thoughts swirls around in my head. I never got to say goodbye to Dad. He died thinking very little of me … I never got to make him proud and now I never will.

  I barely hear Sophie’s words of comfort as she rubs my back, but I’m not sure the actual words matter, it’s the soothing tone that works. The torrent of tears takes me by surprise. For so many years I hardened my heart against Dad’s crushing disparagement and rejection, training myself to expect nothing from him. I knew he was never going to turn into the kind of tactile dad who hugged me or expressed affection.